When I left for Bosnia, it was like stepping into a whole new world.
Stories upon stories were about to be unfurled.
It felt as though I was walking into a movie to play the part,
Doing something more constructive than trying to chat up some tart.
I’d been rehearsing time and time again about some of the things that I would do,
When I finally caught up and reached this Islamic crew.

When exactly I had started to rehearse this part is debatable.
Is it that the longer that I stayed in Bosnia my iman increased like climbing a league table?
Had I started to rehearse for this part prior or post my embracing al Islam?
This was a strange religion with its unseen charm.

I had read the script from the Qur'an al-Kareem.
I had even had some very vivid dreams.
So this was it, this was something that I had to do:
Bosnia, Afghanistan and Chechnya too,
And not forgetting Phalistine, who has not dreamt of you?
Except, of course, maybe some Munaafiqs, but then they will do what they do.

I had read and thought and marvelled at some of those fantastic scenes;
Al-Badr, Uhud, Kandahar, and it seems, that we've lost the essence of these magnificent themes.
And of those who had travelled with the noble Prophet to spread justice and check tyranny throughout the land.
I had wanted to know how I too could join that resolute band.
I had wanted to make a difference to the world and if not to those around me,
Starting with those of course who we all call family.
Then to my friends and those in my town,
I had wanted to let them know that Allah is around.
That was a fight in itself, getting that message across
As most, if not all my friends, wore or were brought up with the cross.
I chose to immerse my self and soul deep into Islam.
I wanted to be covered with it, with its pure, strong charm.

The meaning of a hadith comes to mind: If your feet are covered in the dust of the land feesabeeilillah, then the promise of the Lord of all the Worlds is that if it is done with sincerity for Him Alone, in association with no other, then never shall those feet touch jahannam.

I remember hearing from a learned person,
Someone who had studied al-Islam,
That any injury incurred in such a land
Would come across like a righteous stand;
The bleeding wound would smell of musk,
On a day where there would be no dusk.
So long as it occurred whilst one was in a state of sincerity to Allah,
Then that person could hope and expect to get really far.

 

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